The Ontology of Darkness
by Strange Liou
Summary: Bakura and Ryou are troubled boys of a screwed up bloodline that are about to receive the inexperienced and somewhat reluctant 'help' of Seto Kaiba. AU. Seto/Bakura/Ryou. Character Death.
1. Ch 1: Prologue

**The Ontology of Darkness**

Haha, yeah I got my rewriting paws all over it. Blame my beta reader, Tucker's Mayflower, she's my enabler! XD Naw, she's bloody awesome!

Disclaimer: I down claim any claim on Yu-Gi-Oh!. Seriously.

WARNINGS: (omg, spoiler!) dead body and implied abuse.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

The phone rang. It echoed through the empty apartment.

Books lay strewn across the floor, a few shards of a broken glass in the grey carpet, an upturned chair.

_Riiiing… Riiiing…  
_

Ryou became aware of the phone, like gradually awaking from a deep sleep. It took him a moment to even realize he was hearing it, but once he did all the other sensations followed.

_RIIIING…_

He blinked, finding himself upright beside the couch and looked around. Evidence of last night's fight greeted him. The books Bakura had thrown, the chair Bakura had kicked in his anger and the glass he had aimed at Ryou's head. He felt the dull throbbing of bruises the Shadow Realm hadn't healed yet.

_RIIIING!_

Startled, Ryou looked at the phone and realized Bakura wasn't there. Was he still in the Shadow Realm?

_RIIIING!  
_

Ryou flinched. He couldn't pick up the phone. Only Bakura picked up the phone. No matter how insistent it was.

_RIIIING!  
_

Ryou reached for it anyway, despite knowing better, despite knowing the consequences. He lifted the receiverand stared at it for a moment, as if surprised by its appearance or his action, before slowly bringing it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Bakura?"

Ryou immediately felt weak. He sat down on the couch, winded, trembling.

"Bakura?"

Ryou bit his lip wondering if he should answer, knowing that he should not. His heart began to pound as he pondered.

"Bakura, are you there? This isn't time for one of your jokes."

"Ryou," he murmured on a sudden spike of daring – and immediately regretted it.

His father hung up, leaving the steady, damning beep.

Ryou slowly closed his eyes as he felt the desire to disappear come over him again with the knowledge that the world was better off without him and that he was better off without it. Already he felt lighter. The pain of his bruises and in his chest began to numb – it was better this way.

"Ryou?"

Ryou's eyes snapped open and the receiverdropped from his grip. "Bakura?"

Bakura stood before him, solid and real as he ought to be. But something seemed off. He was calmer. Ryou could feel the tranquillity emanating from him like the gentlest breeze. Ryou couldn't even recall Bakura ever being this…content.

"There's something in the bathroom," Bakura said matter-of-factly. No snide remark, no insult, just a statement. Bakura himself looked only mildly curious. Very odd indeed.

Ryou stood up and followed his gaze to the bathroom. He froze.

Sprawled across the tiled floor was the body of a young woman.

* * *

Oh Bakura, you and your homicidal tendencies.

**Please R&R!** I take feedback seriously =)

**Next chapter:** Seto has visions, visions of a future marred by war and chaos! Demons spilling from a tear in the very fabric of the universe! ... oh wait, that'd be Night Horrors. Yeah, I got nothing.


	2. Ch 2: In Which Seto Has a Vision

The Ontology of Darkness Chapter 2! Rewritten thanks to my beta reader Tucker's Mayflower! Go bask in her awsomeness!

Disclaimer: I do not claim any claim on Yu-Gi-Oh!. This is just a fun waste of my time.

WARNINGS: Remembered violence! Implied knifing! And Seto slips the 'f' word!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2: In Which Seto Has a Vision  
**

The Celtic Guardian appeared and drew his sword elaborately, cloak swishing and eyebrows lowering in a determined frown. With his presentation sequence done, he froze like a statue, cloak in the air – the idle animations hadn't been added yet – eyes fixed in a point beyond the other player. Seto wondered whether it would be possible to add a tracking technology that would make the monsters focus on the opponent.

The other player briefly scanned his cards, and inserted one into the corresponding slot in the interface of his bema, the elevated platform part of the Duel Arena. The monster, a Kuriboh, appeared, but only flickered and didn't go through with the sequence.

Seto frowned. Beside him, he felt the developers fidget nervously. They had every reason to be concerned.

The first player selected the attack option on his interface and the Celtic Guardian moved forward… like a statue on wheels. Instead of performing the fight animations, upon reaching the Kuriboh both monsters flickered and disappeared, but the green square signalling the Celtic Guardian's position in the field remained. Seto's frown deepened.

The dead Kuriboh's card was snatched up by the machine, sending it to the 'graveyard' and freeing the slot. The second player selected a new card. The Blue Eyes White dragon appeared for a fraction of a second, then disappeared leaving behind the blue square where he was supposed to be.

"I've seen enough!" Seto called, standing up.

The two game testerslooked up at him before promptly terminating the duel.

Seto turned away from the Duel Arena below and focused on the game designers sitting on the viewing platformwith him.

Nervous faces stared back at him, expecting condemnation.

Seto took a moment to enjoy the tension. Then he reminded himself why he was angry, righteously angry. "Can anyone explain to me why, after six months of development, the Duel Arena is barely functional?"

After a heavy moment of silence, one of the younger men at the back cautiously raised his hand. "Kaiba-san, these are only minor glitches, they will be smoothed out for the–"

"I will call a meeting tomorrow where you can all explain to me exactly what you have been doing all these months. Dismissed."

The designers and technicians almost tripped over themselves in their rush for the exit. Seto motioned Scott Irvine, the project supervisor, to him and the man approached. "Please forgive the lack of polish," he said. "We were not expecting an inspection so soon."

Seto directed Irvine to walk with him out of the viewing platform and to the elevator. "The Tokyo Game Show starts in six weeks. The glitches better be the only problem. I cannot afford to show an incomplete product." The elevator arrived and Seto stepped in, holding one arm at the doors to keep them from closing, "None of you can afford to let an incomplete product into the exhibition."

Irvine nodded and Seto let the doors close.

Finally alone. He sighed and tried to relax his tense muscles. But couldn't. In the silence he felt a trickle of fear creep up his spine and noticed that his hands were a little shaky.

He had every reason to be worried as so much depended on the success of the Tokyo Game Show exposition. KaibaCorp simply couldn't afford a flop in anything at the moment, as it was still not earning a profit. But his shaking hands had nothing to do with concerns over future sales and overall success of his up and coming company.

He curled his fingers into fists as the elevator came to a stop at the highest floor with a quiet 'ding' and the doors opened. He walked into the top lobby, where the smell of freshly-built room persisted.

"Kaiba-san," his secretary half rose from her seat as he passed her desk. "Crawford-san called. He requested that you contact him back as soon as you're able."

"Put him through," Seto said and went to his office. He straightened his coat and rolled his shoulders as he crossed the room and rounded the desk. He sat down on the large chiropractic leather chair, took a few calming deep breaths and a moment to remind himself he was a boy genius, nothing was impossible for him.

The phone rang. As he reached for it he noted again with displeasure, and a tad bit of concern, that his hand shook. He gripped the receiver tightly and brought it steadily to his ear. "Hello?"

"_Kaiba-boy!_"

Seto bit back a groan at the pet name and suddenly he felt like the fifteen-year-old boy he had been, attending his first game convention and meetingMaximillion J. Crawford for the first time. All nervousness of speaking with perhaps the leading figure in gaming disappeared. "Hello, Mr. Crawford," Seto said in perfect English. "Isn't it a little late in New York?"

Crawford laughed. "_The night suits me far better. It's easier to find you and your Japanese colleagues at this time. Anyway, a little bird told me you'll be exhibiting the Duel Arena at the Tokyo Game Show._"

"That is correct."

"_My, my! You sure do know how to drive your workers. I look forward to see your bring my Duel Monsters to life. Speaking of which, I have a proposition for you. Are you sitting down?_"

"Yes."

"_If you dazzle me at the Tokyo Game Show__,__ I will _personally_ invite you to the United States to promote the Duelling Arena and I will cover the costs_," the man practically purred.

Seto was speechless. At almost every important milestone, Crawford was there with a 'friend in the industry who'd be interested' or a jaw-dropping investment. Seto made sure to pay back _everything_ he owed the man, but moments like this he had to be a little suspicious of Crawford's intentions. "Thank you, Mr. Crawford."

"_Please, call me Pegasus. I look forward to your exhibition._"

As Seto put down the receiver he noticed with some frustration that his hand was _still_ shaking. He rubbed his fingers and then rubbed his hands together vigorously to try and get rid of that creepy-crawly sensation. It didn't go away, but he had some success in getting it to subside. He wondered what could be the cause of such an unusual unrest. He had only noticed it in the lift, but that gut feeling had been with him since morning.

The phone rang again and Seto put aside the shaking-hands nonsense.

~(o)~

As he entered the lift, after a curt goodbye to his secretary, he was running the information given by his accountants through his head. The company were still neck deep in deficit, and certainly selling the old factories, as they suggested, would be very helpful – probably even cover all the costs. But the accountants didn't understand that using any part of Gozaburo's world on his new KaibaCorp, or letting _anyone_ receive any profit from it, was out of the question. Sure, the cost of having the abandoned factories guarded against intruders, or anyone interested in stealing the technology, was draining, but it was a moot point.

His phone vibrated, drawing him from his thoughts. It was Mokuba. Surprised, Seto attended just as the elevator doors opened at the ground floor. "Mokuba?"

"Seto! You said you'd call!"

"What time is it?" Seto asked, checking his watch and trying to remember how many hours to add or subtract for the London time.

"Its way after lights out; I couldn't get you before."

"I must have been busy."

"You're _always_ busy."

Seto grimaced. "Can I call you back in your morning?"

"No! You were supposed to call me yesterday!"

His gut twisted. "I was?" Of course he was, now he remembered. He had been returning home by foot trying to think of a good enough excuse for Mokuba to stay at the boarding school over the holidays, since he was going to be busy with the launch of the Duel Arena. Mokuba would only be disappointed by the lack of attention he could give him. Oddly though, he couldn't remember the rest. In fact – Seto stopped in the middle of the lobby – he couldn't recall anything at all until his waking the following morning.

Seto blinked, having realized that Mokuba had continued talking. "Sorry?"

"You _never_ listen!" Mokuba whined and Seto felt an all too familiar pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Mokuba," Seto said softly, but also trying to sound nonchalant. He had to be strong for his little brother.

"Just promise me I'll get to come over for the holidays."

Seto bit his lip, mind racing for a good excuse. He drew a blank. If only he hadn't gotten amnesia for the previous day maybe he would have come up with something decent. "Alright."

"Promise!"

"I promise."

"Yay!" Mokuba cheered then quickly hushed down, and whispered, "Someone might've heard me; I better go. Talk to you _soon_."

He hung up before Seto managed to say goodbye. Seto pocketed his mobile and wondered what had happened yesterday. Whatever it was it drew that odd little niggling worry at the back of his mind.

He noticed the lobby staff were trying not to stare at him too openly and decided to think things through on his way home.

The penthouse apartment he lived in was only a few blocks away and Seto found the routine walks calming. Unfortunately, the moment he set foot outside, fear seized him with a vengeance and he saw a flash of white.

Weird didn't even begin to cover it. Now he was certain beyond a doubt that something had happened the day before. But what would his mind suppress? Something shameful. The knowledge that his last remembered thoughts centered on Mokuba caused his gut to twist.

Seto set out across the front courtyard of the company headquarters past the taped off construction of the fountain that would incorporate a Blue Eyes White Dragon – courtesy of Pegasus' various investments in KaibaCorp. Seto had only accepted it because of his fond memories of Duel Monsters, and that card in particular.

His thoughts returned unbidden to the company's poor economic situation. Despite having a few fairly good co-produced game titles under his belt, the company was in desperate need to produce something successful of its own to truly make a name for itself in the industry. The Duel Arena was that thing. A secondary item that was supposed to generate some more reliable income – considering that the Duel Arena was the first console of its kind – was a video game fantasy RPG to be released at the end of next year – if KaibaCorp was still standing by that date.

He suddenly glanced up – _a white-haired boy ran at him_ – and it was gone. His heart pounded. That _face_. He felt rather than saw the sheer malice etched into the features.

A chilly breeze greeted him and the world seemed to settle back to order. He was in the park, the trees rustling lazily, a couple walking hand in hand down a path.

He brushed away a strand of hair and found his hand was shaking violently. What the hell had that been?

He dismissed it as… some kind of mind trick, and forced his feet to move, though more cautiously. What a fucked up vision his mind had conjured. He still saw it against his eyelids, a boy with the most intense hatred and _lust_ for hatred imaginable – a demon barely veiled in human form. Perhaps he did need a break. He could take a nap when he got home and then he could kill Nazi zombies until his mind settled down.

It was then that he realized he had strayed from his usual path. His feet had carried him towards a part of the park he had never been in. Right at the corner where the park ended and the streets began there was a stretch of grass with a playground beyond which was the most colourful shop he had ever seen. It was a vision of child-friendly perfection. All that was missing were the playing children and the happy parents.

After the harrowing vision, it was a welcome relief. Seto walked towards the playground and saw that the shop was actually a game shop. All resistance to check it out crumbled.

The shop bell rang softly, but nobody greeted him, which gave Seto some comfort. He didn't like dealing with people beyond the necessary.

The shop was as warm and welcoming inside as it was bright and cheerful outside. The shelves were overfilled with packaged games and displays in a quaint mess of colours and shapes. It made it difficult not to look and touch. A plastic castle filled with human and monster figurines sat beside a complex display of dominos and some form of turtle shaped tabletop game. Posters decorated the walls above the video game racks and Seto recognized the latest releases of video games and card games represented. He stopped before a giant Blue Eyes White Dragon roaring fiercely.

"Sorry for the – Kaiba-san?"

Seto had always been conscious about good PR and limited his public appearances to those that would contribute to the image of him as the next game industry giant. They had been numerous enough in the past year that most game enthusiasts andmedia industry workers knew what he looked like if not more. But the way his name was called was _very_ familiar.

Seto turned to see a midget of an elderly man in overalls and wild gray hair. Looking at his warm face made for wide smiles, he was struck by the feeling that he _knew _him, even though at the moment he could not recall how.

After a moment, Seto realized the old man wasn't going to say anything and he felt obliged to fill in the silence, "I saw your shop…"

The old man grinned and set the boxes he was carrying – sci-fi tabletop role-playing games – down on the counter. "Oh, yes, eye-catching isn't it? What brings a busy young man such as yourself to my humble shop?"

Seto had the disquieting feeling he was being toyed with. "Who are you?"

"Mutou Sugoroku," the man said with a polite little bow of his head. "Though I think you realize we have met before. Yesterday, in fact."

Seto didn't like the disparity in knowledge and felt stupid for the questions he was burning to ask. "I was here yesterday?"

"Yes, though I'm not sure you'd want to know," Mutou said. "But if you _do_ want to know I'd be more than happy to tell you."

Seto swallowed his apprehension in favour of his curiosity. "Tell me."

"Then let me make you some tea," Mutou said brightly, taking Seto aback.

In reflex, Seto looked to the exit and had to remind himself that he was there to get answers and once they were obtained, he never had to return again. He grudgingly accepted.

Mutou gave that annoyingly knowing grin and led Seto through the back door and into a private living-room. There were stairs and a little kitchenette separated by half a wall. It was all very normal and very… cozy.

"I did tell you the basics about the boys yesterday, you were so insistent," Mutou said directing Seto to the couch. "You didn't like my explanations and I don't think you'll like them any better this time round."

Seto took a seat and found the couch uncomfortably lumpy and worn. Mutou, in the meantime, went to a shelf and picked up two photographs. He handed them to Seto. "These are my grandchildren, and that's my daughter. I'll go make that tea."

Seto was a little puzzled that Mutou suddenly changed the subject to family, but accepted them while Mutou went to the little kitchen.

He looked at the photographs and his memory was tickled once more. In the vertical one, there was a woman with short black hair holding a sour-faced child in her arms, making an obvious effort to try and get him to smile like her. The other one showed a slightly-younger Mutou Sugoroku with a cowboy hat and leather vest and two toddlers, one on each knee. This time he managed to recognize the twins and almost remembered their names.

He looked up when Mutou returned and moved over when the man insisted sitting down beside him.

"Yugi, Atem, Atem," Mutou said, pointing to the corresponding toddlers and child.

Yugi and Atem, of course, it seemed so obvious. Seto looked back down at the photos. There was no mistaking them and their pointy hair. Atem, serious or grumpy, and Yugi, the human container for sunshine and puppies.

"I remember them," Seto said, recalling the now teenage boys. Yugi rushing about with bandages and antiseptic; Yami standing in a corner of the kitchenette, observing. "They were always… like that."

"Yes. There are some theories on that in our little community. The simplest explanation is that they were born with their soul divided into two bodies."

"Twins?"

"More than twins. You know that."

He sort of did. "There's a community?"

Mutou snorted. "Those of us with the bloodline. I only call it a community whimsically. We hardly ever meet or anything; we only swap details if we can find a convenience to. We of the bloodline value our privacy and anonymity above everything." He shook his head in disgust.

Seto set the photos down on the coffee table. "So Ryou and Bakura," he paused, not having even realized that he had spoken the names of the white haired boys. Bakura, the monster, and Ryou…

"They're like Yugi and Atemu. Their parents gave me their details so that I might watch out for them. Can you believe it? Their own parents. It's just not right." He turned fully to Seto. "And now here I find you at my doorstep. Clearly they're tired of it, too."

Seto instinctively shifted back. "What?"

"It's not right, Kaiba-san, but I think you can make it right."

All warning bells went off. Seto was hardly the fool to sign a blank check. "I just want to know what happened yesterday."

"Fair enough," Mutou seemed to back off and Seto relaxed. "Bakura attempted to kill you."

Seto froze. Before he could muster an appropriate answer, or exclamation, Mutou stood up. "Water's ready." And left to the kitchen.

Seto ran a hand through his hair. It made sense. Somehow, his mind decided that that bit of information coincided with his uneasy feeling and that horrid image of Bakura – a memory! He glanced at the toddler Atemu frowning up from the photo. It made awful sense. He remembered heading out of the office and worrying about Mokuba. And that was when he had been attacked – in that park.

"Here we go." Mutou returned carrying two mugs but Seto was hardly paying attention as his mind sped through the events. Bakura assaulting him, the glint of a knife, Ryou pushing him away, the struggle, the cut. The cut was done on Ryou. Ryou pushing him, telling him to run in that direction; to the game shop. Bakura yelling insults, taunts and jeers as he gave chase. Seto suddenly remembering an old karate move and driving a foot into his stomach. Then running with Ryou to… to the Kame Game Shop.

A loud slurp cut him from his revelation.

Seto looked up to see Mutou giving him that calm knowing look over the brim of his mug. Mutou carefully set down his tea on the coffee table and said, "So you remember. This is momentous. You are the first."

"Why? Why did he…?" _Attack me with a goddamn knife?_

Mutou gave a heavy sigh. "I can't tell you because I don't know. But I do know that it's not right what they're doing. Not right at all. And I also know that you can help."

Seto felt a cold shiver run up his spine. Help Ryou and Bakura. _Bakura_. Seto didn't think he could face that monster. He remembered alright, remembered the pure hatred and malice burning in those eyes, the glint of the knife and the hysterical edge to his voice. "I have to go."

Mutou blinked. "But you haven't even finished your tea."

"Mutou-san, it was a mistake to come here." Seto stood up and decided to try and be polite. One always had to be polite to the elderly. "I'm sure that if you give it some thought you will realize that I am ill-suited to help these boys. If you want to help them, then I suggest you do so yourself. I have a company to run."

Mutou didn't look at all put off. "Another time then."

That irked Seto. "You don't understand, Mutou-san. I won't be returning. As of this day we will never meet again. I wish you, your family and your friends a good life, but I will not be a part of it."

Mutou nodded pleasantly. "I see," he said, though again he didn't look in the least upset or put off. "I'll see you out."

"Thank you for the tea," Seto added, another way to finalize things.

"It's Ryou's favourite."

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed it!

**Please R&R!** If you have time please give me critique!

**Next chapter:** Seto does some kidnapping and pwns some n00bs.


	3. Ch 3: In Which Seto Kidnaps a Teenager

Thank you Tucker's Mayflower for being the most patient and wonderful beta in the world!**  
**

WARNINGS: some implied violence, injuries.

* * *

**Chapter 3: In which Seto Kidnaps a Teenage Boy**

"Ah, Ota, take a seat."

Seto's eyes followed Ota as he crossed the spacious office to the uncomfortable chair before Seto's elevated desk. "Kaiba-san," he said. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"No. I want you to explain to me why you're screwing up so badly, Ota."

Soichiro Ota, the technical expert currently in charge of the Duel Arena project, bristled. "With all due respect, Kaiba-san, the Duel Arena –"

"Is a disgrace," Seto snapped. "I put you in charge of one project, Ota. One project. And you blow it. Looks like I will have to look for something more suitable to your appallingly low level of competence. It's a mystery to me how you managed to claw your way up in KaibaCorp. I can only assume Gozaburo was even more incompetent than you."

"Don't you speak about –"

"I will speak as I please!" Seto growled. "You are hanging by a thread; Ota, by a filthy thread. Make one wrong move,, and I will land you in prison faster than you can screw up the Duel Arena. It should go without saying that I've ordered the demolition of your laboratories."

Ota gasped. "Wh-what?"

"I decided to follow Otaki's advice. After all, he keeps telling me the company will sink if I don't sell something. Your laboratories will make way for a new attraction at Kaiba Land instead of wasting space."

Ota's face contorted in rage. "_You_ –"

"Yes?" Seto asked coolly.

Ota's eye twitched as he struggled to compose himself. "N-nothing, Kaiba-san."

"I own this company, Ota, and I own you. I believe you should be a little more respectful."

"Y-yes, Kaiba-sama."

Seto smirked. "Good. Now here are the details of your new project. It's a small mobile phone app. I hope it'll be simple enough for you limited ability."

Ota took the papers Seto handed to him and stood up to leave.

"Oh, and one last thing." Seto held up his empty coffee mug. "Could you take this to the kitchen?"

Ota looked down at the mug as if it were a poisonous snake. "Of course, Kaiba-sama."

Seto watched him leave with a small smile of pleasure. It always put him in a good mood to humiliate any one of the Big Five. That was the only reason he kept them around after the company's change in direction rendered their years of experience almost useless. In fact, he counted on them being grossly unqualified for the inevitable mistakes they made.

It was an uplifting end to a less-than-productive workday.

A week after the embarrassing test-drive, there had been little progress with the Duel Arena and problems were revealed in the scripting itself which meant that they couldn't continue adding to the card data bank before they solved it. Seto would have fired half the programmers if acquiring replacements and their adjustment periods wouldn't take precious time that he didn't have. He'd fire them after the Tokyo Game Show.

Just as he left the elevator on the ground floor, his cell phone vibrated.

He checked his caller ID and found it was a private line. That was odd, only a select group of people knew his cell phone number, and they were all listed by name. Still, it could be any one of them using a different phone or the telephone company informing him of a new deal, so he answered, "Hello?"

"_Seto, you have been ignoring us,_" a distorted voice said.

"You sound ridiculous," Seto retorted, somewhat irked by the person's audacity to use his private line and his first name and to start a conversation without any introduction whatsoever – only he could do that without looking like a complete idiot. "Who are you?"

"_Our patience is coming to an end._"

Seto snorted, effectively masking his unease upon realizing who he was dealing with, "If you think you can threaten me, you're deluded. All I have to do is call the police."

"_Remember that you are just as much a culprit as we are._"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I run a game company," Seto said calmly. "Don't bother calling again, because my answer isn't changing."

"_Your security has become lax, Seto. Who knows what can happen while you take a stroll through the park__?_"

Seto clenched his jaw and hung up. He looked down at his phone in distaste and pocketed it. He'd need a new one, a secure one. Worse, he'd have to up security, just to be on the safe side. A jolt coursed through him when he remembered Mokuba. He still had a couple of months before his holiday; hopefully enough to get rid of this security problem, but time flies.

He debated whether to take his usual walk to the penthouse or play it safe and call Hobson, the Kaiba family butler and security expert, to pick him up. He didn't want to give in to those hooligans, but he wasn't that willing to risk his life for his pride. Their threats had been ineffectual in the past, but Seto was smart enough to realize that was because he had had an entire team of bodyguards hounding him and planning his every move at the time.

After that circus, Seto had been quick to shed the protection the moment he had stopped receiving threats. But he had kept Hobson and Rao with him until only two months ago – Hobson driving him to and from work and guarding his house; Rao hanging at his side all day. At the very minimum, he could request their services again.

He caved and called Hobson to drive him home.

Rain lashed at the windows of the car while Seto stared at Rao's name on his phone. Rao, out of all the bodyguards he had ever hired, was the most efficient without smothering him. But he had enjoyed his two months of freedom and wasn't eager to give it up. So he pocketed the phone without calling her.

His eyes caught something out the window and he looked out.

Nothing. But his heart was suddenly racing and the words had formed before he even realized what he was doing. "Stop the car."

Hobson didn't even glance at him through the rear-view mirror as he slowed the car looking for an opportunity to pull out of traffic safely.

Seto scooted over to the window impatiently and searched the almost empty sidewalk.

The rain chased away the few people that would be out at this hour of the afternoon, flooding the empty sidewalk. He caught movement and turned quickly – only to see a broken umbrella topple over, abandoned against a streetlight.

Seto shook his head at his absurd behaviour and turned to Hobson to order him to continue the drive when he saw it again. His attention snapped to a ghostly figure running right past his window before disappearing again.

Hobson managed to pull over and Seto was out of the car before it even fully stopped, heart pounding against his throat.

_I'm acting insane_, he told himself as the rain beat down on him. _I should get back in the car._ But he only pulled his custom-designed coat up over his head and tried to trace the kid's movements. It wasn't just insane, it was downright dangerous. He wasn't sure if it was Ryou or – his gut dropped – Bakura.

But when the kid appeared again, turning the corner, he followed.

His jacket slid back off his head as he walked into the alley. He blocked the rain from his eyes with his arm and saw the white figure disappear behind a dumpster.

Seto took a deep breath, shrugged as the rain ran unpleasantly down the back of his neck, and walked towards the dumpster with trepidation. Distracted, he inadvertently stepped into a deep puddle, soaked his left dress shoe and cursed. He ignored the squelching of his sock in favour of nervous weariness as he approached the end of the dumpster.

He slowly peaked over – _please be Ryou please be Ryou _– and for a moment saw nothing. Then a curled-up, white haired figure flickered into visibility.

Relief flooded him. It was Ryou. He could tell straight-away. Gentle benevolence seemed to simply emanate from his form.

But then he got a good look at the transparent boy.

In only a striped t-shirt and faded jeans, he was soaked through. Seto was shivering in his coat; he couldn't imagine what could have compelled a kid to run out like that, much less hide behind a dumpster in this rain. Then he noticed reddened discoloration on his wrist and upper arm – the beginnings of bruises.

Bakura. There was no doubt. Ryou dealt with that fiend, Ryou protected him from that – he _protected_… Seto suddenly realized that Ryou had actually protected him from Bakura, even at great danger to himself. "Ryou?"

Ryou's head snapped up and he lost all traces of transparency. "K-Kaiba-san?" He gasped and began scrambling to his feet, but winced and crumpled back down.

Seto assessed that the teenager was likely more injured than was immediately apparent, but judging from the fact that he was sitting beside a dumpster in an alley, it wasn't likely that he would seek medical help.

There was nothing else to do. "Come on," Seto said, moving to help Ryou to his feet.

"No." Ryou shied away from his hands. "You aren't supposed to be here."

Seto's inner shirt was getting wet and his left foot was soaked. He wasn't in an arguing mood. "Don't make this difficult."

"Really, Kaiba-san, I just need to disappear and everything will be alright."

"I'm not having this argument," Seto stated. He forced his arm behind Ryou, accidentally scraping the back of his hand and expensive watch against the bricks, to prop him up and push him to his feet.

Ryou's protests died with another wince, and his knees buckled, almost causing the two of them to fall. Seto steeled them both and practically dragged Ryou to the car.

Hobson, who had been standing beside the vehicle with an umbrella, opened the back door for them.

His casual smile didn't hold even a hint of questioning. Nonetheless, it made Seto feel the need to explain why he was pushing an injured boy into the back seat, but he managed to squash it.

~(o)~

"Aside from bruised ribs and a sprained wrist, the young man is perfectly healthy. Some rest will speed up the healing process. I'd also like to recommend that he eat a little more, he's entirely too skinny for a growing boy."

Seto listened to Hobson grimly. "And what caused the injuries?"

"A good beating would. I took note of some scars which lead me to believe that this isn't the first time he has received a thrashing."

"I imagined as much."

"Uh, excuse me…"

Seto and Hobson turned to Ryou, who was propped up on the bed in Seto's guest bedroom two meters away from where they stood.

"Sorry, it's a little weird that you guys are talking as if…" He trailed off at their stern faces.

"Are we well stocked on painkillers?" Seto asked, turning back to Hobson.

"Yes. I gather you wish to keep the young man here?"

"I think that is the best course of action, yes," Seto said, and yet again in the span of two hours felt the need to explain his actions. He was sure Hobson would think him crazy if he said he owed Ryou protection from his alter-ego-twin-creature, who had attempted to kill him a short week ago. Either that or he'd think it was a shoddy excuse for kidnapping an under-aged boy.

"I can't impose," Ryou spoke up.

"Nobody is asking you," Seto said without turning to him. "I will request that you take up your usual sleeping arrangements here again, Hobson, in case of any complications."

"That would be entirely unnecessary. All the young man needs is rest. However, I will do as you say."

Seto nodded and Hobson took his cue to leave the bedroom.

Seto finally turned to Ryou. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, but Kaiba-san I really –"

Seto went to him and Ryou quietened as he took hold of his wrist and turned the back of his arm to the light. He was shocked to find the wound Bakura's knife had sliced missing. Then he noticed a thin scar.

"Seto-san?"

"It's nothing." Had he imagined it? Or had it healed miraculously?

Ryou pulled his arm out of Seto's hand. "Seto-san, please, I don't want –"

"I'm not used to having my actions questioned," Seto said briskly. "Now, Hobson will bring you dinner in about an hour. Is there anything you need?"

Ryou looked completely dumbstruck.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. If you need either Hobson or myself, just yell. It's a small apartment." With that, Seto left Ryou to his room. He saw Hobson already busying himself in the kitchen and went over to his suitcase. At that moment he remembered the threatening phone call and his intention to call Rao. But he felt exhausted, so instead he went to the entertainment centre, turned on the TV and settled down for some noob-hunting on Xbox Live. He could call Rao in the morning.

~(o)~

"Kaiba-sama, forgive the intrusion."

Seto woke with a disgruntled groan. "What is it, Hobson?" The room was pitch black so it was before six in the morning.

"I thought you'd like to know your charge attempted an escape."

Seto cracked one eye open and saw his butler's silhouette. "Attempted?"

"I've locked him in his room."

He nodded and drifted back to sleep.

Seto awoke properly an hour or so later to the morning glare. The delicious smell of fresh pancakes puzzled him for a moment before he remembered he had ordered Hobson to stay over. Subsequently, he remembered he had also kidnapped a certain white haired teenager, but was too sleepy to do more than acknowledge it.

He made his way into the kitchenette to find a mug of black coffee and a plate of pancakes ready for him at the counter, complete with strawberries, melons, cream and powdered sugar. After two months of dry cereal, Seto supposed that privacy may not be such a terrible thing to sacrifice for such pleasures.

"Kaiba-sama," Hobson said, turning away from cleaning the stove, "will you be going to work?"

Seto frowned and began retorting an 'of course' before he remembered Ryou and what his presence implied. He couldn't leave him alone in the apartment, could he? Well, he couldn't leave Hobson and risk walking to work. His hand automatically went to the pocket where he kept his PDA but only felt pyjama. "I'll check to see if I have anything important happening today," he said, standing up and going to the coat-rack to retrieve his electronic organizer.

He had another surprise inspection scheduled for the Duel Arena, a meeting with some disgruntled providers and a presentation from the marketing department for the launch of the Duel Arena. He wished there was a meeting with one of the Big Five he could have cancelled instead. He loathed postponing anything related to his pet project, but he wouldn't trust anyone else to play his representative. He frowned and glanced at the door of the guest bedroom. He really didn't want to leave Ryou by himself, but the Tokyo Game Show was in five weeks. However, there was the uncomfortable fact that Seto owed Ryou his life. He hated the idea of being in debt. He had to figure out some way to repay him.

He fished out his two cell phones – one of which he still had to replace – and told Hobson, "I'll take the day off."

After breakfast and a call to his secretary, he settled into the couch with his laptop. He sifted through his inbox, sorting out the trash and separating the new emails into their respective folders to read in order, starting with external emails.

About an hour later, Hobson checked in on Ryou, then retrieved a plate of pancakes and took it to the guest bedroom.

Seto found himself looking up from his screen, wondering how the boy had slept and if he'd enjoy Hobson's cooking as much as he did. Even when Hobson left and made himself scarce, Seto couldn't return to his work knowing Ryou was on the other side of the wall, awake and eating.

Thoughts about the boy, what Mutou had said and what had happened the week before refused to be ignored any longer. Having Ryou a wall away made it all too real. Surprisingly, though, Seto wasn't actually all that…frightened. In fact, he couldn't seem to even recall the fear he had felt when he had remembered 'the incident'. He knew he had been unnerved; he just couldn't recreate the feeling.

But he could remember Ryou. Yesterday, he had been too busy making arrangements for the boy's recovery to actually dwell on him, but now, procrastinating, it was the only thing he seemed capable of. He remembered him as if he glowed with benevolence; as if white were a texture, warm and welcoming. Everything that he had found odd about the pair – and, he supposed, frightening about Bakura – had been wonderful in Ryou. His white hair, his rich brown eyes, all exuding warmth and sincerity. But above all, no matter how strange it was, he couldn't help but realize that Ryou had protected him, a stranger. At great personal risk. And he owed him for it.

The guest room door opened and a full head of unruly white hair peered out cautiously. Their eyes met and Ryou froze, caught.

"So you've finished?" Seto asked, knowing full well that Ryou was attempting another escape.

The boy bobbed his head shyly and dropped his gaze. "Thank you. You and Hobson-san have been very kind."

In person, Seto found his benevolent aura was not at all diminished. In fact, he could remember his concern and determination during the incident all the clearer. It made him somewhat uncomfortable. "Shouldn't you be in bed, recovering? In the first forty-eight hours after a sprain, it's necessary to rest if you want to heal properly."

"Um, about that…" Ryou stepped out of the room fully and hugged his bandaged arm. "It's better if I go –"

"I'm not letting you go back to that psychopath." Seto turned back to his laptop indicating that the discussion was over.

But Ryou wasn't one of his employees. "I really must go. I can't disappear here."

Seto looked up quizzically at that. "What do you –" he cut himself off and sighed. "If you insist on talking, then take a seat."

Ryou hesitated uncertainly for a moment – Seto caught his gaze and gave him an impatient look – and then went reluctantly to the couch beside him.

Seto mused that the spotless white of the furniture gave his skin some much-needed colour in contrast, but that his hair was even lighter than the material. He set aside the laptop, deciding the emails could wait, and turned to Ryou. "What do you mean 'disappear'?"

Ryou unconsciously began scratching the edge of his bandage. "Nothing."

Seto scowled. As curiously awe-inspiring as his radiation of gentleness was, the boy was wearing his patience thin. "Don't give me that crap."

Ryou ducked as if trying to avoid a blow.

Seto sighed heavily and rolled his eyes in a great show of exasperation, trying to hide the pinprick of guilt. "I'm trying to understand all this and you are not making it easy."

"I shouldn't be," Ryou said, looking up briefly to give him an apologetic look. "It isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm sorry, Seto, but we don't know each other, and you do not understand the situation. It doesn't concern you and it should never have concerned you."

"Mutou explained it to me."

Ryou looked up sharply in shock.

Noting the reaction, Seto continued, "He wanted me to help you." Or at least, Seto was sure that was what Mutou-san had meant.

Ryou shook his head in frank disbelief. "No. That's not right. _Mutou-san_ said that? "

Seto nodded calmly, hiding his own surprise at how unusual such a thing was.

"Then please tell him to stay out of it," Ryou said softly, but determinedly. "If Father found out, he'd make us move again."

Father? Seto found it somehow surprising to think that Ryou had a family. But of course, he had to have come from somewhere. "I'd like to speak with your parents, actually," Seto said, realizing that he'd get more accomplished through them than through a teenage boy that had no concept of consequences.

"You can't!" Ryou said immediately, the thought obviously horrifying him. "Father would be furious!"

"Your father can be furious all he likes," Seto said, wondering how to make the boy understand that, no matter what his young mind thought, his parents weren't superhuman and certainly weren't above Seto Kaiba.

"No, Kaiba-san, I really _must_ insist you don't do such a thing," Ryou said, standing up and bowing deeply. "Please."

Seto stared at the top of his head, preparing the next line of questions for when he straightened up. But Ryou maintained his position.

Seto sighed in frustration, stood up and walked over to the entertainment system. He fired up on the Playstation 3 and turned on the television, already set on the videogame mode. He picked up two wireless controllers and turned back to Ryou.

The boy, still in his bow, was peeking at him through his long messy bangs.

Seto held out one of the controllers, the one Mokuba usually used, and Ryou was obliged to straighten up and accept it.

"This is an RPG," Seto said, walking back around the glass coffee table to his couch. He often liked to sit on the white woolly carpet, but he had a feeling it wouldn't help Ryou's recovery if he followed his example. "I trust you've played videogames before."

Ryou nodded and slowly sat down beside him. "We've got a Playstation 2…"

"Good." Seto skipped through the opening cinematic and selected the new multiplayer game option from the menu. He had started the game around a week ago, but hadn't gotten far, so he didn't mind if it overwrote his saved games. He reached over to Ryou's controller and pressed the start button.

They went through the character creation screen quickly; Seto recreated his previous character, a tall paladin, while Ryou created a wizard. After the opening cut-scene introduced them to the world, they dove right in, skipping the tutorial. Seto was pleasantly surprised by Ryou's ability. Although he had never played that game before, he caught on quickly, learning how to maximise his damage and minimise the damage done to him, even with a sprained wrist. Wizards were a notoriously difficult class because of their frailty, but Ryou seemed to know exactly how to handle it.

After taking down their first boss, a three-headed flightless bird, Seto paused to update his abilities and add his skill points.

"What does this do?"

Seto looked over at Ryou's half of the screen. There was a new ability signal on the corner of his screen. "You can read it on the ability menu," he said, reaching over to press the menu button on Ryou's controller. The ability, 'Gust', popped up on the menu screen and written below it was its wind-effect damage details and controls.

Ryou stared at the screen blankly for a moment and Seto wondered if he had spontaneously fallen asleep with his eyes open when he eventually admitted, "I can't read."

That was the last thing Seto expected to come from Ryou's lips. "What?" Maybe he meant that he had trouble reading off the screen, although it was HD.

"I just never learnt how to," Ryou said with clear embarrassment. "There was never any need…"

"What do you mean? No need? How can you navigate the city, or do your shopping, or do really anything if you can't read?" Seto asked in confusion.

"I get by," Ryou shrugged. "Now, what does the ability do?"

"Wait, wait, wait, do you know numbers?"

"A bit." Ryou was clearly uncomfortable and eager to change the subject. "So what does the ability do?"

But Seto couldn't let it go. "How could you _not_ learn how to read? Did you live under a rock?"

"I just can't, OK?" Ryou said with little patience. "Bakura's the one that got the tutors. Now what is the ability?"

"You mean like homeschooled?"

"You're not letting this go, are you?" Ryou asked wearily.

Seto felt a little twinge of sympathy at Ryou's exasperation. "I was homeschooled too." Why did he say that?

Ryou's eyes widened. "You were? Why?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Ryou sighed. "How could I or Bakura go to school when we spend most of our time non-existent?" At Seto's confused look he added, "We disappear often, it's hard to explain – actually I shouldn't even be explaining this to you, it's none of your concern. But you are real, always solid, so why didn't you go to school?"

Tit for tat. "My adoptive father wanted to control every aspect of my education so he could mould me into his perfect successor."

Ryou blinked. "That… sounds messed up."

"That's one way to put it."

"And are you his successor?"

Seto smirked. "No. This game we're playing, it was co-produced and published by my company, my first success. The thing is that the company, KaibaCorp used to dedicate itself to weapons manufacturing."

"Oh I heard of that! There was a scandal when the new CEO… that was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Seto's smirk turned into a grin. The look on that old bastard's face when he had announced that his first move as the new CEO was to change the company completely had been simply priceless. Some speculated his fatal heart-attack was a result of that. He put the controller aside. "Now I told you things that less than a handful of people know. So tell me about your skeletons."

Ryou gave a nervous laugh. "There's not much to tell, really, I'd only bore you. Besides, if I tell you too much, you'll never be able to forget me."

"I think we both know that's never going to happen."

"I hate to sound like a broken record, but it is seriously way better for you to forget about me. After I leave here, you'll never see me again."

"You're right, you do sound like a broken record. Domino's not a big city, so I doubt you can evade me."

"I'll move cities if I have to."

For some reason, Seto didn't like those words. "Is that what you want?"

Ryou looked him in surprise, perhaps noticing the slight strain to his voice that he failed to hide. He opened and closed his mouth several times, then glanced at the clock. Seto noticed it was four. "I should go," Ryou said. "I'm feeling much better."

Seto frowned. "You're going back to that psychopath?"

Ryou chuckled softly. "We live together. Thank you, for everything, but I really must leave."

Seto sighed. It was pointless to keep Ryou around if he didn't want to be there. Besides, tomorrow he had work to catch up with, meetings to host and people to tell off. It would be for the best to let Ryou go. It would be even better to forget about him. "Alright, I'll see you to the door."

After Ryou left, Seto fished out his phone. "Hobson," Seto said, without looking up from the screen. "This phone is no longer secure, I will need another one."

"Yes, Kaiba-sama."

Seto selected Rao's name from the contacts list and called. Rao's automated voice sounded "_Bonjour, my lovely! I'm enjoying myself in Paris far too much to answer the phone, so please leave a message after the beep and I might call you back!" – beep_.

"Come to Domino ASAP," Seto said. "Don't call me back on this line; it's been compromised." He hung up and considered calling Mokuba. He left the phone on the counter for Hobson to dispose of. He checked the time: 4:20pm. Too late to go to work.

He went back to the laptop to read some of the company's project reports, and noticed the Entertainment system was still on showing Seto's ability tree and Ryou's 'Gust' ability. He picked up his controller and closed the game. He selected the saved-games screen and deleted all of the saved games from their session.

Ryou was right, it was better to forget about him.

~(o)~

Of course Seto Kaiba couldn't let things go that easily.

The following day, feeling better about the slow progress on KaibaCorp's projects after having told Oshita, the vice-president of business strategy, off for it – seeing the old bastard's mixed look of disbelief and embarrassment never got old – he made a call to the Kame Game Shop.

"_Kame Game Shop, Yugi speaking._"

Yugi. Seto looked at his watch, it was five in the afternoon, school over. "Hello, can I speak with your grandfather?"

"_Who is this?_"

"Seto Kaiba."

It sounded like the receiverwas dropped and the boy scrambled to catch it. "_K-Kaiba-san? Hi! Sorry – it's a surprise – why would you be calling? – I just loved the new RPG game, I don't think I told you last – I mean, hold on, I'll get Grandpa, I mean, Mutou-san._"

Seto waited patiently as the boy recovered and went to get his grandfather. He had to admit he found it flattering that the boy seemed to lose his ability for coherent speech, though he didn't remember that happening before. No, wait, now he remembered: Yugi kept yapping on about games to him while he bandaged Ryou's arm, but Seto had been ignoring him in favour of Ryou.

Distantly he heard Yugi call out and add, "_I can't believe_ Seto Kaiba _is calling! You don't think he remembers, do –?!_"

Finally, Mutou got to the phone. "Hello, Kaiba-san. Just a moment. Yugi, stop staring and attend to our customer, please. Yes, Kaiba-san, you wanted to speak to me?"

"I found Ryou a day ago. He returned to his home yesterday."

"Oh?"

"Ryou received quite the beating, I imagine from Bakura. I wanted to let you know that. After all, I do owe him for saving my life, and I repay all my debts."

"Ah yes. Would you like to talk about it?"

Seto, at that moment, realized what he was doing. He was furthering contact with these people and he didn't even know what he was really getting himself into. But Ryou had saved his life and there was no use just observing. Seto was a game person, not a television person. "We are talking now."

"I meant for you to come by for tea."

Of course he did. Again Seto forced himself to really consider if he wanted contact with these people, but continued against his better judgement, "Alright. This weekend?" That would give him ample time to think things through.

"Unfortunately, we have plans for the weekend. I promised the boys a trip to KaibaLand."

No wonder Yugi seemed so keen on him. KaibaLand had only opened around three months ago. Kaiba smirked. "If you wouldn't mind me tagging along, I can meet you there and supply free passes for your grandsons so that we can talk."

There was a pause. "You are quite surprising Kaiba-san, but I cannot take advantage of your generosity…"

"I'd be happy to supply the passes if that means I get to speak with you and you can tell me exactly what is going on. I'm tired of all the cryptic nonsense. Regardless I was meaning to go down to Tokyo to see how things were there."

"If it's not too far out of your way, then it would be quite lovely."

Seto finished making arrangements so that when he hung up there was no doubt in his mind that he was getting involved. However in the silence of the office, doubts began to worm their way back. Why the hell was he doing this? He had been fine, enjoying almost a year of freedom without his adoptive father. He had been perfectly happy… well, happy wasn't the word for it. But he hadn't been miserable, and that counted for something.

The door opened, breaking him out of his thoughts. A tall Indian woman in jeans and a fashionable shirt entered followed closely by his secretary.

"Forgive me, Kaiba-sama," the secretary said hastily, bowing. "Rao-san insisted –"

"I can't believe you haven't told your people I was expected," Aileen Rao cut in, taking off her sunglasses.

"How did she get past security?" Seto asked.

"I – I'm not sure, Kaiba-sama," the secretary stammered.

"You may return to your desk," Seto said, turning his attention to Rao.

Rao sat down in the chair before his desk and crossed her legs. "It wasn't easy, Kaiba," she said. "I see you have taken my suggestions on board."

"You still got through, didn't you?" Seto said.

Rao snorted. "If I failed to get through, I wouldn't be worth the money you pay me. So, what do you need me to do?"

"I received another threat, so I need you to resume your post as my bodyguard."

Rao smiled. "Of course."

~(o)~

As Ryou slowly came back into awareness, he found himself with a face full of grass. He pushed himself up on his elbows, rubbed his face and looked around. Where was he? A park.

His clothes were quickly sucking up the moisture from the ground so he got shakily up onto his feet. How long had he been gone this time? Where was Bakura?

Seto.

That's right. The last thing Ryou remembered was leaving Seto. Judging from his location, it seemed he hadn't made it to his apartment before he disappeared.

At a shriek, he jumped and spun around, his heart in his throat. But it was only a little girl, squealing as her mother pushed her on a swing. A little boy ran up to them, demanding his turn. He sighed softly, then his eyes fell on the colourful game shop beyond. Mutou had told Seto about them; why would he do that? For a moment he felt the desire to march up there and demand that Mutou stop endangering their secret and Bakura's future, but he was exhausted.

He turned and headed back to their apartment, hoping that Seto would give up on them before he got hurt.

* * *

**Please R&R!** If you have time please give me critique!

**Next chapter:** KaibaLand!


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